


But You Wouldn't Do The Same

by mormor221b



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 02:39:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14275113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mormor221b/pseuds/mormor221b
Summary: After the events on Westminster Bridge, Q contemplates life alone without 'his' James and reminisces...





	But You Wouldn't Do The Same

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I just saw a fanvid using this song and had the idea for this. It's my first 00Q fic so please leave a comment below x  
> Disclaimer: I don't own the lyrics used. It's the Bruno Mars song - Grenade

_Easy come, easy go. That's just how you live, oh. Take, take, take it all, but you never give._

Q ignored Tanner’s sympathetic look and Moneypenny’s offer of condolences as he watched Bond walk away. His gaze was fixed on him for a few moments, ignoring the flashing lights of the ambulance barricade, and focusing on James. _His James_. He watched as Bond walked away from everything he’d ever worked for. From MI6. From him. He watched as he walked into the arms of the woman who had left him and his cause only hours ago and watched as he kissed her. He watched at how easily his hand slid into her and how easily he walked away from it all.

_Shoulda known you was trouble from the first kiss. Had your eyes wide open. Why were they open?_

He mumbled his excuses before leaving Westminster Bridge as quickly as he could, desperately clinging onto the pieces of his heart that hadn’t been shattered and stomped on already. He got to his empty flat, silent apart from the mewls of the cat who came to greet him at the door. He sighed when they ran between his legs probably looking for Bond, their savior who had been spoiling them with some expensive cat food anytime he came. He looked at the bottle of scotch still on the countertop and with lack of a better idea, poured himself a glass. He leaned against the counter as he sipped the amber-coloured liquid and found his sight fixed on the window. The window Bond would jump through with some lame line and a takeaway. The window he would jump through when he was broken and bloodied and in need of reassurance. The window he jumped through and tugged Q’s jumper into their first ever kiss. He wanted to tear his sight away but he couldn’t help hold out hope that he may jump through again. One more time. Q cursed himself for being so pathetic and poured himself another glass. And then another. He’d watched Bond go with his own eyes and here he was getting drunk on Bond’s scotch, waiting for him.

_Gave you all I had and you tossed it in the trash. You tossed it in the trash, you did._

As Q dropped himself onto the couch, he started to contemplate what this all really meant. Bond was gone and he’d likely never see the man again. He’d never give the man his kit again and banter with him, flirt with him on the comms or yell at him for damaging the equipment. He’d never issue him with another threat if he didn’t bring back his kit. He’d never share those intimate conversations they’d have late at night after a round of passionate sex. He’d never be able to kiss Bond again.

_To give me all your love is all I ever ask. Cause what you don't understand is..._

As he sat, curled up and alone, on his couch, he couldn’t help but mourn his loss. He had loved Bond. He had truly loved him and now _his James_ was gone with _her_ and there was nothing he could do. Nothing except hold onto memories of what had been and only imagine what could have been.

_I'd catch a grenade for ya. Throw my hand on a blade for ya. I'd jump in front of a train for ya._

He loved Bond with all his heart. He tried to show it in the only way he could - his actions. He was hopeless in ever admitting his actual feelings. He hadn’t expected to be the one who would change the infamous womanizer. But like everyone else before him, every other notch in Bond’s bedpost, he couldn’t help but hope he would be. That he would be the special one. The one Bond would stay for. But he drank alone, feeling the pain of not being the one.

_You know I'd do anything for ya. Ooh, I would go through all this pain. Take a bullet straight through my brain. Yes, I would die for ya, baby._

He put his job on the line for Bond. Twice. Helping him escape with M to Skyfall and helped him with his battle against Spectre. He had done it because Bond needed him and God help him, he’d do anything he needed in a heartbeat. Even if he denied it at and put up some sort of fight at first. He even put aside his fear of flying to go to Austria and help him. He gave him everything he could and it broke his heart to know that despite everything he did, he wasn’t enough. That Bond chose her over him. And now he was alone, with nobody, just the way he started except with his heart broken by the very man he had tried to fix.

_But you won't do the same_


End file.
